Sensations in my Fingers
by skinnyrita
Summary: After the humiliation of being caught participating in a drinking competition, Legolas seeks help in Eomer, and together they dispel their grim thoughts of death. slash, EL


**Sensations in my Fingers.**

one night brought to you by skinnyrita

"I feel a slight tingling sensation in my fingers," I said, raising the offending digits to my face and inspecting them, flexing them, "I think it is starting to affect me," I added, unnecessarily. Curling my long fingers back down into fists, I glanced up to find my eyes locking with Eomer's. My stomach tightened slightly at the idea of the future King of Rohan, whom I was not a particular friend to, seeing my usually refined self so raucous, and indulging in such an unbecoming sport.

However, I was immediately distracted from his gaze by my competitor's guffaw of "see! He can't hold his drink!" and then promptly passing out under the table we had heaped with barrels and tankards. A drunken Rohirric Auxiliary nudged Gimli gently with the toe of his boot.

"He's out!" he declared, and began to sway drunkenly, yet determinedly towards me, no doubt to either congratulate me, or to challenge me to continue the revelry. I wished for neither to occur.

Eomer appearing at my elbow saved me, unexpectedly. "Excuse me, my lord," he said, quietly and yet loud enough for the ring of men surrounding me to be aware of his request, "I wonder if I might borrow you."

"Certainly."

I was glad to find my rising uninhibited by the drink I had consumed, though the tingling sensations remained, pulsing slightly around my body. It was a comfortable feeling, though hardly worth it for the amount of ale I had had to consume to achieve it. I did not need to consider the matter to know that I would never bother taking up against Gimli in such a contest in the future. As I shouldered past the men who had slowly amounted to our audience, I felt as if being released from a cage. Though I enjoyed the company of Men, I could not deny to myself that I felt like an object of fascination and speculation to those who had probably never seen another elf in their lives, and never would again. Was I some interesting creature to be studied?

Eomer led me past groups of more serious conversationalists, discussing Helm's Deep, and the newer and unavoidable challenges already on the horizon, and down the main hall leading from the dining room. We passed three other elves, survivors of the battle, and I greeted them briefly, a pain flaring up beneath my ribs for their fallen commander, and all my kin who had passed the previous week. The world truly was changing.

We stepped out onto the main steps in a rush of fresh air. The night was still and clear; starry. It was quite beautiful considering the carnage still hanging over the heads of all who had been at the keep. Edoras, however, lay before us as we stood at the great doors of the golden hall, and it looked far more beautiful by night, when all the sorrows were secreted away by a blanket of welcome shadow. I understood now Eomer's gift, and breathed deeply.

"Thank you, my lord, I was feeling somewhat …smothered in there."

"I apologise for not rescuing you sooner –your discomfort would have been more obvious had you not been encircled by a band of rowdy guards, who it pains me so say, were all rather worse for wear this evening."

"It is natural, I believe, to wish to drink away one's sorrows. Drink, I believe, allows some Men to subdue their emotions until such time as they are ready to give credence to them."

Eomer stepped up next to me, and leaned his forearms on the parapet. "There is not enough drink in the world, I fear. This shadow would have men drown in drink." He turned his head slightly to regard me silently for a second, and then asked, "You are truly unaffected? I must confess, it was quite something to watch you take down the Dwarf. Truly, he has a hardy stomach and a temperament for ale."

I let a breathless puff of laughter escape me as I speculated on what would happen the following morning, when Gimli discovered he had been beaten. "I confess, the tingling in my fingers has spread a little; a trembling beneath the skin. So you see I am not completely immune."

His eyes darted about briefly, taking in the terrace and the rest of the landscape surrounding us, observing that we were truly alone now. "Extend your hands, my lord, and I shall deem how affected you truly are." I did so, with some amusement, and also curiosity. He took my wrists and inspected my fingers in a matter-of-fact manner. "There are some small tremors, but nothing to give any alarm, I assure you. In fact, I'd say you could have continued a good deal longer. Quite incredible –your tolerance impresses me." He released me quite sharply and turned back to the view over the lay of Edoras. I regarded the slight, uncharacteristic flush staining the Man's features, thoughtfully.

"Perhaps you would like to join me for that drink, Eomer. I can't promise we can drink away our sorrows, but even those who have to hold strong, may often be in need of some… reprieve."

He released a rumbling laugh. "I am not holding strong as well as I appear, lord Legolas. But I am glad that I am apparently not as weak willed to the eyes of others, as I feel in my heart. I hope you can forgive me, friend; I could not return to the hall now. I fear that such revelry is not open to my sensibilities at present."

"I do not speak of returning to the hall, my lord."

He started a stared round at me abruptly; he had not been aware of how close we had become. It was unsettling to see such a strong man thus rattled. And yet I prided myself silently upon having been the cause. "Perhaps," I continued, "you might favour me with a tour of the hillside by night. Alternatively, we could retire to some private place, and of some subject less arduous. If you wish for more refreshment, I would not be averse to accompanying you." I could not have conveyed my intentions more clearly, and Eomer dropped his eyes. I could see his mind working, weighing his options, and determining my own loyalty to his reputation.

He brushed some errant hair away from his eyes and glanced about again. I knew that he feared for his own position; that he was reluctant to make a mistake that could reflect upon everyone in his future kingdom. He cleared his throat. "Legolas, I- you must understand, I cannot be discovered to be in any way…compromising, my position."

"Surely, my lord, a private drink with a friend could give no servant, no guest, and no other soldier, a cause for suspicion," I argued winningly.

"There is a handsome seating area in my chambers. It appears that Theodred's quarters were extended into my own, when we were busy at the keep, after the battle. We could continue our conversation there. The hillside is… open and I feel the temperature dropping as we stand here."

I understood immediately: the hill was too exposed to talk openly.

"I should be happy to take refreshment with you there," I replied. He shot me a look of promise, and swiftly turned back to the main building.

We entered the main corridor again, though I noted that my kin had retreated to some other place. They would have been unused to the noise now emanating from the main banqueting hall. Unable to resist a look, I glanced in as we passed, and noticed Gimli propped up between two Rohirric soldiers and having water forced on him. A pressure on my arm made me turn. "Legolas," said Eomer, more urgently, clearly not wishing to be seen and pulled back in to give a jovial front to his guests. He pulled me slightly down the corridor, away from the other people.

He released me as a servant came into view, carrying a tray of crystal glasses, trying to avoid the sporadic knots of giddy soldiers knocking about still. "Have some wines brought to my quarters, with some bread as well, please. As quickly as possible, I have some state matters to attend to." The servant bowed and said that it would be done at once. I thought that Eomer was very clever. If he were in a business meeting no one would ever think of disturbing him, not even in the middle of the night.

Soldiers detained us several times on the way to his chambers, mainly Rohirrim who had been at the drinking contest and were trying, slowly and disjointedly, to say goodnight. By the time we reached Eomer's chambers, the wine and all else was prepared and waiting. He poured generous amounts into two glasses whilst I observed the rooms. There was a spacious area furnished with two long chaises and a handsome desk covered in papers with a high backed chair nearby. I moved through two more rooms, one of which looked like a training room, and one that was empty apart from huge drapes at the huge windows and a large bath, basins, etc. I moved right out to the last room, which was beautiful, airy, opening onto a balcony. A bedroom.

A wineglass appeared at my elbow. We sipped in silence. The column of his neck moved slowly as he swallowed, the newly clipped beard lending the future king more youth in his features. I felt my age upon me keenly. I drained my glass and set it down, moving right into the room, to the balcony. The city below lay motionless and dark. Now that I was standing up here, I wished that we were back down on the parapet –there I could tease, here I was slightly out of my depth –not a feeling I generally embraced. When I turned back to the handsome room, he was still leaning against the doorjamb, regarding me silently with an expression of nervous anticipation, hair gilded gently by the candlelight. My chest tightened, but not uncomfortably.

I advanced into the light. I am not unaware of my own beauty. Elves inherit all the attributes many Men may only dream of. But in that moment, when I saw my companion's breath catch, I felt more elated than I can describe. I untied my tunic as I approached, the soft undershirt glimmering in the shy light. He moved into me as I took the glass from his hand and set it on a table close by. I could hear his breathing.

We faced each other. His gaze locked with mine as his hands caressed my sides and up to the centre of my chest. I inhaled sharply with desire. Our mouths met hungrily in the middle. I reacted forcefully, crushing his hard body against the doorjamb and myself. He moaned huskily, his grip on my neck insistent, the other hand travelling down my chest, parting the undershirt. I gasped, and we broke apart.

I looked at him steadily; his dark green eyes bored into me, as he said, "I am the heir to the throne of Rohan. I must take a wife… have heirs. Forgive me."

"Warrior's choice." It pained me to say the words, though I offered them freely and in good faith. The memory of the last person to say them to me invaded my thoughts momentarily before I could beat them back. I could not think upon that, not in this situation. Warrior's choice. The agreement soldiers were known to offer each other at times when either might seek …comfort. A one-time event for the purposes of gratification only. I had known many soldiers, even those with wives and families, to enter into such an agreement on an endless or seemingly fatal mission.

"Would that I could make this night otherwise," said Eomer, soberly. His voice shook slightly, as if it distressed him to cheapen me. I could not have that.

I leaned in to speak against his mouth, feeling him shudder between the wall, and myself. "Let us see how tonight pans out. I desire you keenly, son of Eomund," I murmured, sensing the sweat breaking on the surface of his skin, revelling in the knowledge that I was the cause. Taking his bottom lip gently between my lips, I tasted the wine again. "Lie with me, Eomer."

His reaction was so instantaneous that I lost myself in a flurry of passion, his mouth on mine, hands everywhere, shedding my shirt and trampling it somewhere beneath us as I collapsed backwards under his weight, only to find the bed beneath my back, not knowing where he or I began or ended. My body flared with fire as he caressed my body like some revered creature, a rarity. His lips moved to my neck as I unfastened his tunic and undershirt, only to have him leave me briefly, rising above me to shed the rest of the coverings. His chest and shoulders were broad and toned, and intensely masculine. Switching out positions I lowered him gently beneath me. His breathing was laboured as I mapped the lay of his muscled body with my eyes, drinking him in. "By the valar, you are beautiful." I heard my voice croak slightly, uncharacteristically –Eomer must have noted it too, raising his arms to ghost fingertips over my back and lower.

In the early morning we lay entangled on the rumpled sheets. The warm weight of his arm lay across my stomach. I didn't sleep myself; I rarely need to, and I preferred to watch him. He looked the same age as me, but looking down on his face I saw just how young he really was, how many cares had slipped away from his face as he slept. I felt old, world weary, as though all I had seen in my long, long life, was what this poor child had yet to face. His destiny lay before him still, whereas perhaps mine lay behind now –who knew what would be coming in the future but I knew that from then on he would have a greater role to play than me.

I lay staring musingly at the swirled white ceiling for hours before he stirred again. Suddenly his hand moved to splay over my stomach before moving up to my neck. It was the most fantastic feeling of togetherness. Unfortunate then, that we both know the feeling was on a time limit and would have to end as soon as the rest of the palace began to stir. "Good morning."

I glanced down at him but he still had his eyes closed. "It's not exactly morning yet," I said, trailing a hand through his long hair and down his back. He groaned deliciously and stretched beneath me as I shifted my position over him. He squinted at me inquisitively for a second before allowing me to plunder his mouth slowly, with no hurry; a different tone to the night before but just as wonderful. I felt my hair fall forwards to surround our faces, creating a private, quieter world as I looked down at him again.

"Legolas…"

"We have time," I said, leaning down again, feeling his arms envelop me as I shifted between his legs, revelling in the feelings created as he moaned into my mouth, sending tremors across my tongue. We broke for breath as he threw his head back and I nuzzled into his neck.

"Did you sleep?"

"I rarely need to," I replied.

"It was calming, having someone watching over me. My rest was so complete last night. Thank you."

I raised myself to my elbows, looking down on him. "You take too much care upon yourself, son of Eomund," I told him, seriously. He shifted noncommittally, carding his fingers through my hair.

"Much as I hate to acknowledge it, I feel this care closing in around me. I do not wish for it, but it must soon occur –I feel that my uncle is not long for this world. The impending kingship weighs upon my mind."

"I…"A sound from one of the outer rooms alerted me to the stirring of the house. Distinctly, we both registered a clang from the bathroom, and the sound of pouring water. A servant must be within. I kissed him chastely, "You must go before they enter for you. I shall conceal myself on the balcony."

"Valar, I did not realise the hour," he muttered quietly, "perhaps we were overheard?"

"Rest easy, Eomer, son of Eomund. Bathe, dress –look for my face in the crowds when you come into the hall and greet your people."

Fin.

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disclaimer -I do not own Legolas or Eomer. Those who have the LOTR extended editions will remember the drinking contest. Ho hum...

reviews please. I personally don't think there's enough eomer/legolas out there -what do you think?


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